


Hallelujah

by TheSilverField



Series: love that transcends time [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canonverse-ish, Flashbacks, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Reincarnation AU, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverField/pseuds/TheSilverField
Summary: It's a cold...It's a broken...Every breath we drew was...





	Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [attraversiamo19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/attraversiamo19/gifts), [Arlene0401](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlene0401/gifts), [ReluctantHero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReluctantHero/gifts), [shades_0f_cool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shades_0f_cool/gifts).



> Inspired by [this](https://open.spotify.com/track/74X1epeRufHckhuX1KFD04?si=7LKQJRTySoW2kFn1_sAaHA) version of Hallelujah.

In one life, you were a newborn breath of dawn, as spectacular a spectacle as the fireworks on the Fourth of July. You were a golden sun, heatwaves rolling through the pit of my stomach, an evening tempest hidden beneath a veil of blue skies.

When I saw you that first night, rain soaking us through to the bone as we stood awe-filled on the street corner, I cried. But you smiled and took my hand.

“Jean,” you whispered with bated breath, looking as if you were waiting to wake up from a dream. “I can’t believe we found each other again.”

You knew of a life much darker than the one we were living then, but I was overwhelmed with emotions I couldn’t explain. I didn’t know what the word _Marco_ meant when it slipped from my lips like a prayer, an unspoken hallelujah finally free to breathe life back into my lungs. I couldn’t remember the way you lived before, the way you died, the way that tiny piece of bone sat in the palm of my hand with the weight of the entire world. My world, shattering around me like the stained glass window of a burning church.

“Have you found any of the others?”

 _The others_ lit a fire in my chest that burned up my throat, spilling out in a string of broken sobs and wails that sounded far too childish for my age. “I don’t know. Others? I don’t know. Who are you? I remember your name, but I don’t remember _you._ What’s going on?”

Watching the light drain from your eyes was like watching the last of your funeral pyre burn out with a wisp of smoke, you hand slipping from mine. Suddenly, without your touch, the world felt empty. You blinked and the light returned, but it was nothing compared to before. The smile you wore was only a facade hiding the truth, the hurt and loss and overwhelming joy of finally being together again.

“I’m sorry,” you chirped, the quick change in your demeanor making my head spin with confusion. “I must have you mistaken for someone else. Have a good night.”

I could see your shoulders shaking when you turned away, walking through the crosswalk before I could utter a word.

The rain started to pour harder, the thunder overhead unable to hide the sound of screeching tires. In a flash of light, I called your name, shouted my hallelujah at the top of my lungs like my prayers would save you.

But life for us then ended before it had even started.

In our next life, I struggled with nightmares of monsters and holy walls; holy wars. Always fighting, always losing. Losing you. I remembered you, remembered all our lives together from the very beginning. The births, the deaths. Always losing.

I was determined this time to find you and never let you go. To strive and to live and to win. I didn’t begin to lose hope until my ninety-third birthday, walking through a cemetery to greet old friends who were lucky enough to not remember the past. I stumbled upon an old tombstone, one with the markings of a decorated officer, but that had been left to be devoured by dirt and vines. Your name was there, your picture, your hallelujah. For the second time on the first day I had seen you, I cried.

I cleaned your grave until my last breath. The only plot left was the one next to yours.

Now, I sit across from you, watching as you drink your coffee and read the morning paper. You always laugh when I tease you about looking like an old man, your eyes shining with the same newborn breath of dawn as every life before this. Your smile as golden as the sun, as radiant and blinding and powerful. The same heatwave rolls through me, and suddenly you’re not holding the paper anymore.

I have our lips pressed together before you can ask what the hell my deal is when I snatch your reading away. I’m in your lap, my thighs atop yours as I press myself down and devour your breathless moans. I lick up every gasp and sigh, wrapping my legs around your waist when you stand to bring me into our bedroom.

We both remember the hell we lived through before, but wrapped around each other as we are now we aren’t so afraid of it anymore. The sun sets and rises and we’re still here, tangled together with lazy kisses and whispers of hallelujah.


End file.
